Reggie clicked his heels together in mock salute. “As you wish, Herr Captain.”
“Don’t push your luck, American,” Stefan growled.
Kate gamely danced for another hour. Even one of the Estonian guards took a spin, the Poles hooting good-naturedly while the other guard held his rifle. When she had danced with everyone who wanted a turn—nearly the entire crew— the singers were as hoarse as seals. By then, Stefan had filled Eryk in on the plan. They had split up, moving unobtrusively through the crew, briefing the rest of the officers. By that time Kate prepared to leave. As she was saying her goodbyes to the singers, she picked up her coat off the back of a chair and then walked over to Stefan, who was leaning against the far wall, smoking quietly by himself. Most of the men had settled down in their makeshift beds, mattresses and blankets on the floor. Many were already snoring, succumbing to the effects of the food and drink and late hour.
“My purse?”
Stefan pulled it from beneath his arm and handed it to her. She hefted it in her hand, nodded her approval. “Thank you for the dance,” she whispered.
“My pleasure,” Stefan replied. “I hope I can repay you for your help.”
She stared at him, a solemn expression on her face, as if her inner eye was attempting to discern their future. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Commander.” She surprised him with a light kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you around.” And then she was off, striding like a prom queen across the floor. She found Reggie by the door, hooked him by the arm. The guard at the doorway let them out, bowing slightly as they passed.
“Anyone else we need to worry about?” Stefan asked.
Veski seemed hypnotized by the pistol in Stefan’s hand. Stefan jabbed him again to break the spell. “Uh, one at the door,” Veski said, “one out back. That’s it. We didn’t think …”
“And good for us that you didn’t,” Stefan said, cutting him off. “All right, rouse the men,” he said to Eryk. “Time to go.”
Eryk waved across the room to Squeaky, who whispered to the other officers, and senior sailors. They quickly moved among the crew, most of whom were scattered across the floor sleeping despite the commotion outside, shaking them awake. Stefan was surprised at how calmly they woke. A momentary blank look, or a yawn, and then a curt nod, smiles even, as the officers briefly told them what was happening. Stefan had kept news of the plan from the bulk of the crew. No need for them to know until the time came. It also prevented any nervousness from alerting the guards. Within moments of understanding what was happening, each crewman glanced in Stefan’s direction, as if needing reassurance that he was he was back in charge. What they saw seemed enough for them.
“Hurry, hurry,” Stefan hissed. “Let’s go. …” He grabbed Veski’s arm, and hustled across the dance floor. Eryk grabbed the two rifles, motioned with the pistol for the two other guards to follow. As two of the
Eagle’s
gun crew, he tossed the rifles to them. “No shooting unless ordered, understand?” he said. Both men nodded curtly.
“What are you going to do with us?” Veski said with alarm. Eryk gave Stefan a questioning look, as if to reiterate: Yes, what are we doing with them?
Stefan smiled. “For now, you’re coming with us. Think of yourselves as a guest of the Polish Navy. We’ll try to treat you as decently as you treated us.”
Eryk’s snort of with laughter caused Veski to send a worried look in his direction. He knew from experience that Poles had a violent streak—his wife was Polish. He just hoped they didn’t take it out on him.
Stefan paused at the door, the rest of the crew crowding behind him. “There’s a bus waiting out front for us,” he said, scanning their faces. “One guard at the front door. You all wait here while I take care of him. When I shout, come fast. We’ll load onto the bus, and then make for the harbor.”
Here it was. Would the crew still follow him after all his mistakes? He noticed a few worried nods and a tight smile or two, and then Chief K pushed to the front, his face pale as a death shroud. Ever since the discovery of Jerzy’s body, he had been silent and withdrawn, occupying a special room set aside in his own private hell. But no more. His face twitched with life. He was breathing heavily as if he had just completed a long run. “And what then?” he gasped. It was everyone’s question. “We can’t very well sail a damn bus back to Poland.”
Stefan put his hand on Chief K’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off, twisted away and asked the question again, his voice trembling with emotion. “What then, goddamnit?”
Stefan looked out over the men. “We take back what is ours,” he said, “and then get the hell out of here. I don’t know about your boys, but I’m tired of Estonian hospitality ...”
Chief K stared at Stefan with bruised eyes, and then, finally, bobbed his head, his face split by a grimace that was the best grin he could muster. It was the answer he had hoped to hear. It was the same for the rest of the crew, too. They pressed forward, ready to go. “Let’s get it done,” Chief K barked hoarsely. “We’re right behind you, Captain!”
Stefan shook his head in response to the chief’s attempt at a compliment. “Not yet a captain,” he said, and then he slipped out the door. His shout came a few moments later, the guard looking sheepish, holding his nose, blood coating his upper lip like a sloppy child caught in the raspberry jam. Stefan handed the guard’s rifle to Chief K and then pushed outside.
McBride already had the door open. “This isn’t a bloody holiday,” he spat as the first sailor climbed slowly up the steps, smiling nervously at McBride. “Get your arses in gear.”
The boy and the other behind him didn’t understand the man’s English, but they all recognized the look and bark of an officer. They scampered up the steps and trotted down the aisle, sliding into the seats. Stefan was the last one aboard.
“All set?” McBride said.
Stefan nodded. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said in English.
“Couldn’t have put it any better meself,” McBride roared.
But as he pulled the door shut, an arm and shoulder suddenly got in the way. “Oww,” squealed Reggie. “Open up, open up. I need these.”
“What the hell are you doing?” McBride half stood in his seat, jammed the door lever forward, face blossoming red.
Before Reggie had a chance to respond, Kate jabbed him in the bottom. He spread his arms in apology, and then scampered aboard the bus.
“Nice to see you again, boys,” Kate announced.
“You must get off,” Stefan said, furious. “This is no place …”
“For a woman?” Kate finished for him. “I’ve heard that before. Didn’t work earlier, and it won’t work now. You aren’t leaving us behind. Without us, you’d still be sucking your thumb back there. Besides, I don’t have the ending to my story yet.” And with that, she sat down on the front seat and crossed her arms.
“We don’t have time for this,” McBride sputtered. He dropped back into his seat, closed the door, shoved the bus into gear. “Next stop,
Eagle
!” he roared.
“What seems to be the problem?” Ritter said.
“Fire, sir,” replied the driver of the Mercedes, half turning around in his seat to address the officer behind him. “The street —it’s blocked.”
“Go another way. …”
Ritter leaned forward, peering through the front window. Two fire engines were parked in front of the burning building. The cobblestones along the street glistened like river rock wet with spray. Hoses were coiled like gigantic anacondas, their mouths held by two firemen pointing their spray at the flames that seemed intent on spreading to the upper stories of the building and the adjacent structures. The mansion where the Polish crew was being kept was up ahead, just over a block away. Ritter noticed a red bus pull away from the front of the building. Curious. He watched it accelerate down the block toward the fire, and then lean to the left as its driver made a sharp right turn down a narrow street leading toward the harbor. Even seeing the bus crowded with men wasn’t enough for Ritter to realize what was happening. It was locking eyes for just an instant with the figure of the bearded man standing over the bus driver, that made everything clear.
“Back, back,” Ritter screamed. When the German driver didn’t move immediately, Ritter scrambled over the front seat, pushed open the door and kicked the man out. He pulled it closed, dropped the Mercedes into reverse, and with a squeal of tires, began racing backward. He braked hard as the big German car raced through the intersection, spun the wheel to the right to whip the massive front hood around and then hard to the left. Before the slide was stopped, he’d jammed the car into first, popped the clutch and stomped on the accelerator. The Mercedes leapt forward.
“What the hell is going on?” Sieinski shouted from the back seat, responding to the sudden crazy antics of his keeper.
Ritter shook his head, his laughter filling the car. “A worthy opponent after all. It was always him I was worried about. You are a fool, and except for that poor boy, the rest of the men could be deceived easily enough, but not him. I should have known better ...”
“What are you saying?” Sieinski shrieked, his face contorting with ignorance.
“Did you see that red bus?”
“Yes.”
“Your men are on it.” Ritter was almost gleeful. “And they are heading back to the harbor.”
“But why?”
“My God, you don’t deserve any of them. Isn’t it obvious? Even that poor boy was worth a dozen men like you.”
“I don’t understand.” Sieinski said, a strange sense of calm settling over his features.
“Your crew. Not yours any longer, I suspect. What’s his name. Stefan? Yes, that’s it. It is his crew now. And they are going to take back their boat.
Eagle
. Or, I suspect, die in the trying.”
When Ritter glanced in the rearview mirror, Sieinski had his face in his hands. And that was the last that he thought of him for while. Ritter wrestled the Mercedes through the narrow streets of Tallinn, brushing aside a few smaller cars that happened to be sticking too far out in the street with shriek of metal and a contrail of sparks. Within moments, Ritter had caught up with the lumbering bus.
“We’ve got company.” When Stefan frowned, McBride pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Only one organization that has those particular type of motorcars, and they’re not the fellows we want to see.”
“Germans?” Stefan said.
“Righto on that one, chum,” McBride said.
Stefan moved quickly down the aisle, using the seat backs to help him keep balance. Chief K handed him the rifle as walked past. Stefan chambered a round, kneeled on the back seat, raised the rifle butt and punched out the back window. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and hesitated, eyes going wide with sudden recognition. “You sonofabitch,” he roared. He fired and missed, Ritter swerving to the side just at the right moment, bouncing off the cars lining the street like a pinball off a bumper. Stefan fired two more shots in quick succession just as Ritter jammed on the brakes. The first round transformed the windshield into a spider web of cracks with a bullet hole directly in front of where Ritter’s face had been just a moment before. The second shot went through the Mercedes’ radiator, burying itself in the engine block. The Mercedes skidded sideways on the wet slick streets, plowing into a bench and flipping a parked motorcycle into the air.
McBride whipped the bus around a corner. As Stefan lost sight of the car, steam was curling up from beneath the hood.
“Mighty fine shooting, sir,” said the young sailor on Stefan’s right.
“You keep this for me, eh?” Stefan handed the boy the rifle, and then made his way back to the front of the bus.
“We’ll be at the harbor in a another couple of minutes,” McBride said.
“And who do I thank,” Stefan said in heavily accented English, grabbing hold of McBride’s shoulder and squeezing hard.
“Easy boy,” McBride winced. “I don’t have a spare.”
“So sorry. I can never repay your kindness.”
“Forget about me, laddie. Just doing my job. If you get a chance to return the favor, keep in mind His Majesty’s government. I think we’re going to need friends like you in the coming months. Follow me?”
Stefan nodded. “I understand you,” he said in English.
McBride wheeled the bus around the last corner, relieved that no one else had picked up the chase. The pier was directly ahead, the
Eagle’s
dull gray deck and conning tower visible in the glare of overhead arc lights. McBride gave a guard a friendly wave as passed through the gate, braked the bus to a stop right next to the
Eagle
and pulled open the door. “Last stop,” he yelled, “
Eagle
!”
“You stay close to me,” Stefan said in Polish to Veski.
Veski nodded blankly.
“We’re coming with you,” Kate reminded him.
“Jesus …” Stefan sighed. He looked to McBride for help.
“Sorry, friend,” McBride replied with a grin. “I tried to argue with her, and look how it’s ended for me . I think you’re stuck with ’em. They’re adults. They know what they’re doing.”
“Just … just get aboard and stay out of the way,” he whispered fiercely. Then it was time for last minute instructions to the crew. “I want no shooting, understand? Leave the rifles here. Go to your stations, prepare to get underway. Let me deal with whoever is in charge here.”